One thing about staying in a frontcountry campground you always meet some interesting people. I was sitting around today just thinking back on the trip this past weekend. After all the beautiful fish and scenery the first thing that came to my mind was the good folks i met. There was the two good ole local boys that was as hillbilly as they come. A dad with his two small boys just out camping and riding their bikes. The two gents from the Atlanta area that was away from the wives doing some hiking. There was the couple i had the pleasure of conversating with on my last evening in the campground. A very nice couple and he had been a Army chopper pilot. Real nice and friendly. I'm still amazed at how he drove that long streamliner down into the valley. I couldnt hardly get my saturn in there. They travel to different campgrounds in the park for most of the spring and then again in the fall. We were talking fishing and Ian's name came up. He told me a little story about how when Ian was working in the fly shop as a young lad he would go to Ian and bow, asking," Master why cant i catch fish". Ian would bow back and say "you have waders on, stay out of the water".
I certainly enjoyed those fish but i sure enjoyed filling the down time with the nice people you meet.

......just hang the waders or start tying flies on the picnic table, and you are sure to draw a crowd!!!

Or carry a fly rod tube through an airport...

My favorite backcountry meeting was about three years ago. I was hiking up the upper Deep Creek Trail above CS#53 and I see a very attractive young lady come around a bend (as she was coming down the trail) with a day pack and a fly rod. As I got to within 100 yards of her she stopped as if she was waiting for me to pass by her. But when I got within 50 yards of her I was aware of another voice cussing and gasping, and the distinct smell of cigarette smoke. Since I saw that she wasn't smoking (or cussing) and I doubted she was waiting for me...I realized that there was someone around the other side of the bend.

I rounded the corner and saw what looked like the backcountry version of Jabba the Hut. The guy had to weigh well over 350lbs. He was sitting on a rock with two huge backpacks strapped to him (each not less than 75 pounds, as well) . He then had all assortment of Beverly Hillbilly style attachments with all sorts of camping implements bungeed to the packs and/or his body. He was cussing, panting, sweating profusely and chain smoking. He was bigger around then he was tall and the effect of him sitting on the rock only added to the Jabba-esque quality of him.

He wanted to know how much farther it was down to CS#53 and when I told him it was about 2 miles, I thought he was going to die on the spot...They were only going to stay for two nights and then hike back up...right...

I envisioned him acting like Bill Bryson's friend Katz and chucking stuff out of his pack and off his body in a maniacal frenzy, as I walked away...

__________________"Even a fish wouldn't get into trouble if he kept his mouth shut."

Absolutely.......I was thinking of Katz as I was reading your post.......a great book by Bill Bryson.........I have struck up many a conversation by carrying fly rod tubes through the airports of Bozeman, Billings, and Denver.

__________________
Here I walk slowly, deliberately, taking it one step, one trout, one sunset at a time. -Harry Middleton